


Not With a Bang

by gin_tonic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Community: snape_potter, M/M, Secret Snarry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-06
Updated: 2012-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 01:32:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gin_tonic/pseuds/gin_tonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minerva hosts the annual party for the staff at Hogwarts, but this time something has changed. This time, Severus Snape makes a voluntary appearance at the party. Throw Harry and some eggnog in the mix and it might end up to be a very happy Christmas indeed…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not With a Bang

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tiptoedbow](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=tiptoedbow).



> A gazillion big thank-yous to [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=angela_snape)[**angela_snape**](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=angela_snape) for being a wonderful beta, especially since this came on such short notice. ♥

As a student, Harry had seen his teachers as not-quite-human beings. They had been a whole different species, unable to understand the plight of a student. They had been old and yet not old. They'd surely never been young, but had hatched perhaps. At least that was what he and every other student had thought. Now a professor himself, Harry found out how very human teachers actually were. Take Minerva, who enjoyed spending the evening in front of a roaring fire or taking a hot, foamy bath (or so she claimed). Or Firwood, who'd started working as the new Runes professor shortly after the war had ended and so many teachers had retired. Firwood was a sports enthusiast – his quarters looked like a temple for Puddlemere United and he watched every single game his favourite team played. Or take Harry himself, who liked to go out with his friends and usually got royally pissed like all the other young people. Professors, Harry had found out, could be just as irresponsible, weird and crazy as every other human being. It was what made them, despite pupils' claims, normal.

It also was one of the reasons why Harry filled his cup to the brim with eggnog at Minerva's annual Christmas party for the staff. The students had gone home already – actually it was the first year that the castle was truly empty of children – which allowed the teachers to be just as boisterous as they wanted. Especially for this occasion Minerva had made punch and eggnog from a secret McGonagall family recipe.

Despite what people might think, Harry kind of liked the Christmas parties for the staff. He always had some pretty awesome stories to tell (well, apart from that one time where the last thing he remembered was drinking a shot of something Hagrid had brewed) and actually always did have a good time. This year, though, something had changed. Quite drastically even. Severus Snape had decided to make an appearance during the party. And Harry refilled his eggnog.

"Severus! You made it!" Minerva was practically bubbling with astonishment and happiness and immediately dragged Snape over to the table with the drinks. Harry retreated quickly and decided to watch from afar. He still didn't trust himself around Snape, though for completely different reasons. Besides, they never talked. The occasional insult at the head table or during staff meetings or even in the hallways didn't count.

******

  
After his third eggnog Harry felt quite definitely happy. And warm. His fingers were also tingling a bit, but that was all right. He'd chatted with Hagrid for a bit, but then Hagrid had passed around some moonshine again and Harry had thought it might be a good idea to catch up with Firwood and talk about Quidditch. That plan would have ended in an argument, had Harry not made yet another escape. Firwood apparently couldn't overlook the fact that Harry supported Ginny's team, the Holyhead Harpies. Ah, well. At least Hagrid was snoring in a corner for now and wasn't threatening people with his concoction anymore.

Harry made his way over to the eggnog – another one surely wouldn't hurt, would it? – only to have his cup snatched from his hand.

"Hey!"

"Calm down, Potter." Snape, Harry's and his own cup in hand, gave him a look that surprisingly quelled Harry's protest. "Don't you think you've had enough?"

Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Hardly." He narrowed his eyes. "I can hold my liquor. I'm not a child anymore." Was it Harry's drunken perception or did Snape really check out Harry's body? He blushed to be on the safe side.

"I can see that," Snape said and walked towards the table with the drinks. The punch was nearly gone. Suddenly Harry felt the need to have the post-war talk that they'd never had. He felt the need to be honest with Snape.

"I always hated your guts," Harry declared drunkenly. "I mean, after the war I was thankful, but I still hated your guts."

"Is that so?" Snape asked merrily and refilled their cups with eggnog.

"You wouldn't see me, no matter how many letters I sent! It made me so angry!"

"I was rather ill at the time, if you recall."

How could Snape be so bloody poised even after having had some of the eggnog? "I do. But you were well enough to receive visitors!"

"Perhaps I was not ready."

Snape's honesty took the wind out of Harry's sails. "But you are now?" Harry asked.

Snape handed him his cup and silently they raised them at each other before taking a sip. It was strange how every time Harry got a refill the stuff tasted stronger.

"Yes."

"I … Good. That's good." Harry watched Snape sip slowly and wondered what had made him come to this Christmas party when he'd shied away from all the former ones. Hesitating only briefly, Harry asked him exactly that.

"I have my reasons," Snape replied cryptically.

"Yes, I kind of knew that – it's why I asked you in the first place."

Snape gave him a look, but this time Harry didn't back down. In the background, Hagrid had woken up and now urged Minerva to sing Christmas carols with him. Finally, Snape gave in and started talking again: "So, what did you want to talk about?"

Harry blinked. "Huh? When?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "When you sent me those letters. You clearly wanted to talk about something. What was it?"

"Oh." Harry looked down at his mug. His eggnog was disappearing quicker than it should. "Everything, actually. I wanted to say thank you for –"

"Duly noted."

"And I wanted to ask you about my mom…"

"She was one of the finest women I've ever met. Maybe I will tell you more about her on another occasion. One with less of this swill." Snape emptied his cup and went to refill it.

"You were in love with my mom." Harry wasn't quite sure whether he was asking or making a statement, but either way, it got a response.

"I loved her."

"Where's the difference?"

"Really Potter, do I have to explain even these little things to you?" Snape sighed. "Loving someone and being in love is different – it's a different set of feelings. In the former you care deeply for another person, in the latter, you most likely want to shag the person, too."

"But you were jealous of my dad!"

"Jealous? Yes." Snape pushed a limp strand behind his ear and smiled wryly. "Because suddenly he got the attention from your mother that I felt I deserved. I thought he was stealing my friend." Before Harry could comment, Snape turned and sniffed. "To cut this conversation short: I'm gay. Always have been, always will, definitely wasn't in love with either of your parents."

Harry could only gape. He certainly hadn't expected _that_. "That's brilliant!" he exclaimed before his brain managed to work properly again. He bit his tongue immediately, but it was too late.

"Come again?"

"I mean. I… Err."

"Eloquent as ever, Potter."

Harry desperately looked for something to distract Snape with. He found it in the form of an abandoned, half-empty bottle of brandy, which he offered and, once accepted, topped off their drinks with. As if they'd needed it.

******

  
Ever so slightly more drunk than before, Harry and Snape watched in horror as Minerva finally gave in to Hagrid's pestering and fell into song. Soon the rest of the staff joined and – horror upon horror – turned towards Harry and Snape to make them come join them, too. Without having to say a word, both Harry and Snape started running, brandy and eggnog in hand.

It was only one or two hallways down that they stopped. Harry dissolved in manic giggles and Snape seemed to smile a little.

"That was close!" Harry laughed and leant against the wall, only to slip a little and land against Snape's shoulder. He held onto Snape, trying to regain his balance, and found it felt rather nice. Snape smelled like nutmeg and sandalwood and Harry couldn't help himself. He stretched a bit and kissed Snape.

"What was that?" Snape asked afterwards, his lips still so close that they touched Harry's as he spoke.

"I wanted to know what it's like to kiss you. Have for a while now."

"Did this _while_ start when you began drinking eggnog tonight?"

"No. It began a long, long time before that." Harry wasn't completely conscious of the exact _when_ , but Snape had intrigued him for a while now. Before tonight, though, he'd mostly put it down to their slight animosity and hallway bantering. Apparently, he'd been wrong, because his heart was beating like a crazy herd of hippogriffs that had spotted a ferret and he felt his cock stir. Yes, definitely not animosity.

He kissed Snape again, and then to prove to himself and Snape that this was not due to alcohol, he cast a mild sobering spell on them. No sense in using the strong stuff. That always resulted in queasiness and a green tinge and was only for emergencies like an early morning session with the sixth years.

He blinked and waited for Snape to move. When he didn't, Harry leant in again, put his arms around Snape and pulled him closer. "I want you," he whispered hotly against Snape's skin and rubbed his groin against Snape's leg. Snape growled low in his throat and kissed Harry, hard and possessively. Suddenly Harry's back was against the wall, one of his legs around _Severus_ and Harry felt an answering hardness pressing against his. He moaned into the kiss and just knew that if they didn't go to a room soon they'd be fucking out in the hallway.

******

  
They made it to Severus' room, after all. Harry started tearing at his clothes until Severus just banished whatever they were wearing. They fumbled and stumbled into the bedroom and it was on the way there that Harry noted that Severus had put up a small Christmas tree. All of a sudden he felt a surge of something – something warm - filling his heart completely. Harry pushed Severus the last steps towards the bed and threw himself on top of him.

******

  
If the world had to end, Harry thought looking up at Severus, it should be this way. Not with a bang, but with a whimper.

He bit his lips as Severus pushed deeper, harder and gasps and whimpers broke free. He clung to Severus, pulled him closer. He had waited for this, so long. He hadn't known – and if he had, he would have done something about it – but feeling Severus move inside of him, he knew this was perfection. Sweat glistened on Severus' forehead and the last coherent thought before Harry's whimpers turned into moans and shouts, before his world exploded, was that Severus was so incredibly hot like this.

After, Harry lay in Severus' arms, both of them breathing hard, sweaty and sticky, and too lazy to move. Christmas candles were slowly floating through the room, casting everything in a warm light. Harry took Severus' hand and interlaced their fingers. In the morning, he was sure, there would be so much to say. But not tonight. Tonight he just wanted to be.  


  


-The End-

  



End file.
